


Shackles

by Webtrinsic



Category: Captain America (Movies), Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man - All Media Types, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017)
Genre: Aunt Natasha Romanov, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hurt Peter Parker, Hurt Steve, Hurt/Comfort, Identity Reveal, Kidnapped Peter, M/M, Papa Steve, Uncle Clint Barton, Worried Steve Rogers, Worried Tony Stark, dad tony, uncle bruce
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-26
Updated: 2017-06-26
Packaged: 2018-11-19 10:14:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,510
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11311260
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Webtrinsic/pseuds/Webtrinsic
Summary: "Peter whimpered in pain, the drill going through his wrist to make way for the shackles. Once again repeated on his ankles, the masked man slowly feeding the shackles metal bar through the hole in his bones. He sobbed in pain, his father's would be here soon. If they could find him, because he hadn't the faintest clue himself. Didn't even know if his parent's were called. They're always so busy, maybe they didn’t even know he was gone."





	Shackles

Peter whimpered in pain, the drill going through his wrist to make way for the shackles. Once again repeated on his ankles, the masked man slowly feeding the shackles metal bar through the hole in his bones. He sobbed in pain, his father's would be here soon. If they could find him, because he hadn't the faintest clue himself. Didn't even know if his parent's were called. They're always so busy, maybe they didn’t even know he was gone.

 

They had been called out to save the world once again, there's no telling when they'd be back. Or if they'd even come back. It was almost impossible for them to be contacted, they'd at least take a message from Happy or Pepper. Sadly Pepper had bigger things to handle, and Happy is some what proficient at his job, but he doubted he noticed he was missing.

 

Probably thought it was simple teenage angst, him locking himself away in his room or at another's house. It only made the situation ten times worse, he'd been taken after school. There was no way of them knowing he was gone, except for FRIDAY. She'd let them know, hopefully without them even asking.

 

\---

 

One blast, two, three, four. Tony shot, as his husband led him and the team throughout the warehouse. He hoped to wrap this up quickly, he'd promised Peter they'd work on a project together. He had a plethora of things in mind, maybe a car, possibly an iron man suit for Peter. Not that Steve would allow that, and well Peter would be inheriting Stark Industries, who knows maybe he could take up the Iron Man mantle as well.

 

Of course he didn't know if Peter would want that, he had a mixed feeling himself if he wanted that for Peter. He's always been so kind, he couldn't imagine Peter having to do the thing's he does. How much it'd hurt his son, how scared Peter would be. Tony shook his head, no, Stark industries was enough. They'd just have to work on something else.

 

Tony's eyes bulged when he saw Steve thrown , a pained noise escaping his throat on impact. The wall behind breaking, crumbling, crushing Steve.

 

"Cap!" He shouted, rocketing to his husband's side. Being guarded by the archer's arrows, while he lifted his unconscious lover from the ruble. Weary blue eyes opened up, wrongly dilated, minor concussion. For that Tony was relieved, especially when a sly smile fell from the Captain's lips. 

 

"I hate to break up this heartwarming moment, but we could use a little help Stark," Natasha cut in over the comm. Tony didn't want to depart, but Steve forced him up.

 

"Go on, I'll stay out of trouble." Steve promised, Tony rolled his eyes behind his face plate, "Sure, you will."

 

\---

 

Peter cried out from his slumber, the man yanked his chains dragging him forward. Peter crawled forward quickly on his elbows, not wanting to feel the yank of his chains any further. It was too much pressure on his bones. The act in itself caused the wound's to bleed once again. His wrist chained only 2 inches apart, the same going for his ankles.

 

"So Mr. Stark Rogers, I must say it's nice to see an heir on their knees. Especially when your daddies are earth's mightiest heroes. You see I'm not looking for ransom, revenge, nothing of the sort. I've always enjoyed watching other's suffer, whether it be psychological or physical. Your parent's will certainly be psychological, you'll get a bit of both." The masked man explained, pulling a gutting knife from his pocket.

 

The man hooked the lip of his blade to Peter's shirt collar, slicing it downward exposing his chest. Peter gasped, as the rest of his shirt tore off. Ruining the Stark industries T-shirt. He knew it was cliché, but all his other clothes were being washed. Peter couldn't resist to comply, as the man tilted his head.

 

The blade circled his neck, going further until it reached his collar-bone. He nicked it quick, several times on each side causing Peter to flinch. Blood slowly trickling down his pale torso. He hissed in a breath, the blade gliding over his skin downward. Not cutting him, but resting gently until the man's boot forced him onto the ground. His face sideways on the concrete floor, the blade now being traced over the knobs of his spine.

 

It was cold, the floor, the blade, the air he inhaled in his now dry throat.  Peter cried when pulled closer by the loops in his jeans. The blade hooking to the fabric, slicing down until it reached the end of his left pant leg, then again on the right. The jean's fell of off him, and he was left humiliated in his boxers. 

 

"Now, you see what I did to your ankles and wrist. I'm going to do that to your knees, then elbows. That sound okay?" He hummed, hauling Peter up and onto a black box, his arms pulled up far over his head.  Locking the chains in place, Peter squirmed, his elbows forced together at the angle, the drill now whirring in his captors hand. 

 

"Just a pinch remember?" The masked man chided, drilling through Peter's elbow. Peter cried out, his eyes rolling back into his head, as the process was repeated. A longer bar fed through both elbows, attaching them. Peter would kick if he could, but his thighs were being roughly grabbed and forced together so his knees would touch. 

 

"No please!" Peter found his voice, shaking his head desperately. His back arching in pain, when the drill forced its way through his knees. He really did faint then.

 

\---

 

 

The team excited the shuttle at SHIELD headquarters, preparing to go home, that's when Pepper came running. Steve and Tony stood straighter, a feeling of dread overcoming them. Happy wasn't far behind her, Peter no where in sight. 

 

"Where's Peter?" Tony growled, Happy shook his head.

 

"He didn't come home from school yesterday, they found his backpack on the side of the road with his belongings. The only camera in the area hasn't been working for weeks," Pepper explained with teary eyes. 

 

"Has anyone called claiming they have him?" Steve asked, knowing the most plausible reason for anyone to take Peter is to threaten them. No one calling in meant it was possible he'd just randomly been taken. Not because of who he was related to, just because he was what they were looking for.

 

"No, nothing," Happy replied, the couple stood still. The team casting worried glances at their appointed team leader's.  Steve jaw tightened, before nodding.

 

"Tony," Steve started, but Tony stormed out to go through as much footage of the surrounding area.  He'd go through every damn license plate on the tapes, go to every one of their homes in search, until he found his son. Steve followed in suit, along with the others. Steve didn't care his head was aching, neither did Tony care his heart was breaking.

 

Images of their son flashed in both their minds, Tony's mind always seemed to escape him. Even Steve with his concussion managed to not over think it, not let himself imagine terrible things because that wouldn't help Peter. Tony's mind betrayed him, those images fuelled him. Thoughts of the most precious thing in his life, crying out for him fueled him. Made him work harder, it made him determined to rip apart all of New York until his son lay cradled between his and Steve's arms.

 

\---

 

Peter pried his eyes open, his joints and ligaments aching in the forced position. Sitting across from him is the masked man, twirling a scalpel in his hands. 

 

"Now, It's quite rude to pass out in the middle of a performance." He chided, Peter didn't care to watch his tone now and shouted, "It's quite rude to torture someone and not even tell them who they are!"

 

"You have a point there kiddo, my name is Emmet Dunn. But don't you worry, now that you know my name the torture won't be rude anymore." Emmet smirked. Stalking over to Peter, Emmet quickly sliced underneath Peter's scabbed collarbone. It was a straight across, clean-cut. 

 

Peter wailed, until he set the blade's tip upon his breast bone. Peter hyperventilating, his lungs expanding and shrinking at an alarming rate.

 

"Don't worry," Emmet advised, viciously yanking the blade downward all the way down to his hips.  Peter screamed, the small basement window breaking at the sound. Peter's eyes rolled back, Emmet slapped Peter hard. 

 

"You fucking idiot!" Emmet shouted, inspecting the window.  Peter had already fallen unconscious, in Emmet's frustration he began slamming his fist on Peter's bloodied chest.  Little did they know a red-headed assassin looked on through the shattered window. Babbling in russian the assassin slipped through the window, yanking the man away from Peter.

 

Emmet's eyes widened in alarm, swinging at her. Yanking her leg up, Natasha kicked him in the head knocking him unconscious. Nat ran upward to the staircase, she needed to clean Peter up. Grabbing the rubbing alcohol and paper towels she returned to Peter's side.  Natasha gagged upon seeing the chain's imbedded in her appointed nephews limbs.

 

Clearing the blood away from his chest, she dabbed the rubbing alcohol on another towel before cleaning the wounds. His pulse felt weak, but it was consistent. Pressing the comm in her ear, Nat spoke up. "I found him, you have my location. Bring medical, and bring a saw."

 

"A saw?" Tony, Steve, and Clint shouted. 

 

"There are chains, imbedded through his bones," She explained gently.

 

"How is he otherwise?" Steve prodded, rushing to the car with the rest. Tony located her by the comm, speeding quickly to the home. Medical had arrived just as they had, breaking down the door, them not far behind. Tony grew woozy nearly falling down the basement steps, his son terribly shackled, torn and cut open. 

 

Steve steadied him, gently taking them down the steps. Peter's eyes moved beneath closed lids, bringing himself from the darkness. Tony crouched by his head, Steve on the other side.  The paramedics further cleaned the wounds, before starting to stitch him up. An IV couldn't be set due to the position of his arms. 

 

Tony and Steve stepped away to let them remove the chains, protective mask were placed on the paramedics stitching him up to protect them from the sparks of the saw. Peter's head was covered with a protective sheet, as they cut through the shackles holding him together. Steve hugged Tony closer, eyes riveted to the metal slowly being pulled from the bone. 

 

It made a scrapping noise, almost as if his bone had tried healing around the steel rod. Little did they know, it did. The man's hand shook as he forced it out. Tony broke from his husbands hold, going to confront the man who did this to his son. Agent's were taking him to their van, but Tony ran quickly. Pushing both agent's out-of-the-way, tackling the son of a bitch and pummeling his face. 

 

The agent's nearly laughed, but pulled him away when they grimly realized Tony wasn't letting up. He wouldn't stop till he was dead. Tony resisted, until Clint pulled him back holding him still. Bruce came over, instructing Tony to breathe, but he didn't listen. Clint pressed Tony to the ground, Bruce desperately trying to get Tony to calm down.

 

"He hurt Peter," Tony breathed, his head falling against the grass. 

\---

 

Once Peter's arm's were free, Steve returned to Peter's side. Peter looked up into his father's ocean eyes, tears slowly falling. "Pa," He whimpered.  Steve ran his hand through his son's hair, kissing his forehead in comfort. 

 

"I'm here Peter," Steve assured, using his thumb to wipe away his sons tears. Peter yelped when the longest bar was pulled from his knees, his bones resisting the movement.

 

"This isn't normal, his bones shouldn't be gripping the rod. It'd have to take years for that to happen," Nat spoke up, Peter whispered then. Steve didn't hear it, and Natasha came closer to hear as well.

 

"I'm Spider-Man," Peter whispered once more, hoping that'd explain it. There eyes widened at the admission, both gulping in realization. Spider-Man did have a healing factor, it made sense. Steve nodded, as did Nat. Steve rested his head against Peter's, "Of course you are, Tony's going to worry."

 

Peter tiredly smiled, "And you're not?"

 

Steve returned the smile, "I am, but I know I can't stop you. You're just as determined as Tony, I can't hold you back. Also I can't bring myself to not intervene when danger strikes, It'd be wrong of me to punish you for doing the same."

 

Peter nodded, resting his head against Steve. Nat's laugh and sly smirk caught their attention, "My little spider," Peter returned the smile nodding at his aunt.

 

The paramedics advised them they'd be moving Peter, Peter lifted his head staring down at his stitched up chest. Steve gently guided his head back, they lifted him gently and placed him on the stretcher. Steve didn't trust them to get him up the stairs, and took the lion's share of getting him up the basement steps.

 

Peter's head lolled side ways, squinting in disbelief. Uncle Clint was holding dad down on the grass, Tony seemed to have succumbed. Doing the breathing exercises Bruce instructed, as he patted his shoulder.

 

"Dad," Peter groaned, his arm protesting as it bent at the elbow reaching for Tony. It had been wrapped in gauze, two stitches holding the small hole together. It had to be done on both inside and out of his elbows and knees.

 

Auntie Nat readjusted his arm, "I'll get him for you, Peter."

 

"Thank you," Peter whispered, looking up and smiling at Steve. 

 

"You got hurt," Peter said flatly, noticing those ocean eyes were not dilated properly.

 

"Minor concussion," Steve explained, as they got set in the car. Tony rushed in, looking down at his son.

 

"Oh baby," Tony whispered, settling beside Steve. 

 

Nat hopped in, brushing the paramedic off, settling Peter's IV herself. 

 

"Why kick out the Doctor's?" Tony asked, his eyes glued to the Peter's torso.

 

"Go on Peter," Steve insisted, with a nod from Natasha.

 

"I'm Spider-Man," Peter whispered, wondering how he'd react. Tony's eyes snapped to Peter's, "A onesie, you're the one shooting around the city in a onesie. When I could have made you perfectly nice suit? Once your spider senses heal you, we're working on a new suit."

 

"You're not mad?" Peter asked, and Tony bobbed his head.

 

"Earlier I was debating whether or not to ask if you wanted to take up the mantel of Iron-Man, now I know you won't be needing an Iron-Man suit for us to work on. You'll be needing a Spider suit, and well we can work on it together. That doesn't mean you're not grounded," Tony confessed.

 

"Okay," Peter breathed, "Can I go to bed now?" 

 

They all laughed and nodded, "Yeah, you can sleep now."

 


End file.
